


Frat Regs

by pukajen



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pukajen/pseuds/pukajen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This weekend was a long time coming and she was looking forward to every moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frat Regs

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to soundingsea for the betas. This was written for a long-forgotten challenge on DW that I can't find any more. After watching 'The Avengers' today with some friends I finally remembered to post this.

When the dust settled – well, settled as much as it could, after Thor and Loki returned to Asgard – they were given down time. 

The others went about their own journeys, but she and Clint stayed in New York. Not Manhattan, but New York State. Leaving the SHIELD car behind, they got on her bike and headed north. Years ago, quietly, under another name, he’d acquired a cabin on Tennanah Lake. 

As far as Natasha knew, she was the only one who was aware he owned a small parcel of peace in central New York near the Pennsylvania boarder.

He didn’t invite her to come with him, nor did she suggest they take her bike; it just happened.

Once they left I-87 for seventeen, she’d stopped for gas, he’d teased her about letting SHIELD or Stark do some modification so that she could get better gas mileage, and she’d smartly told him she didn’t want Stark fiddling with anything between her legs. That had shut him up quite nicely, though the heated look he gave her said that his thoughts were now far away from her bike’s miles per gallon and instead on what he wanted to fiddle with between her legs.

Despite the construction, they were making fantastic time and Natasha gunned the engine a little more, wanting to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

They were speeding up seventeen at twenty miles over the speed limit – if she got pulled over, Natasha knew from experience she could get out of the ticket, usually without resorting to any sort of government tricks – for some down time. Some time for them.

His arms were loosely wrapped around her waist and his chest pressed to her back in such a way that she could nearly feel the entire hard wall of his chest, but without having to bear any of his weight. At no point was she not vitally aware that he was with her, behind her, his arms around her, surrounding her without trapping her. 

It felt good to have him so close after having nearly lost him. This time it was more than the physical aspect; on some level she was prepared for his death, but not to have him alive, healthy, with his memories, but operating as her enemy.

Not for years. Not since Budapest. 

Never in her life had Natasha been so relieved to see Clint looking back at her after he woke in the infirmary. If it hadn’t been for the battle, she never would have left his side, nor did he seem inclined to leave hers. 

More than a week later, she still stayed close by, periodically checking to make sure Clint was doing okay, that he was dealing with have his mind imprisoned and tortured. Not that he seemed to mind as he stuck just as close since waking. 

Even once the shock and adrenalin had worn off, they’d stuck close together. Always a tight team, they’d become nearly inseparable. While there were no overt touches, nothing blatantly sexual, they both understood what was coming. 

So to speak. 

It wouldn’t be the first time they’d had sex, but it would be the first time it was planned. There were rules about unauthorized fraternization, but neither of them cared. Even a direct order from Director Fury wouldn’t stop them.

For all they were both fully SHIELD operatives now, it hadn’t always been that way and they were known to completely disregard orders they didn’t approve of. For all Director Fury was playing fast and loose with the international alliance of overseers, Natasha was almost certain he would not have approved leave for Clint and herself if he knew exactly what they planned. 

As if he sensed what she was thinking, Clint’s arms tightened around her. The deep growl of the motorcycle and rush of the wind made conversation impossible, but still, he must have felt her tensing up and could at least guess the direction of her thoughts.

Natasha arched her back against his, like a cat stretching lazily into the sun; it was the only way she could acknowledge his hold without endangering them. They were coming up on the exit for the road that would take them through a little town, then to his cabin. As they changed lanes, Clint’s right hand splayed on her abdomen, his thumb brushing the underside of her left breast. 

Under the leather of her jacket, and layers of her t-shirt and bra, she could feel her nipples tighten and it took every ounce of willpower not to shift enough to get him to cup her breast. 

Natasha wasn’t sure either of them would be able to wait long enough when they got to the cabin to do more than remove the most essential pieces of clothing.

In less than half an hour she’d find out.

Clint’s hands started moving as soon as they left the highway and she needed to slowed down – not for any consideration of the posted speed limit, but out of a very healthy respect for what would happen if she met up with a deer – and immediately he was holding her closer. Or, at least, she thought he was. It was hard to tell, with the twists and turns of the road, if he was actually tightening his embrace or just moving with her – lean into the turn, shift weight at the apex, ease back to straight – but his hands were definitely lower on her hips than they had been before that last series of turns.

Then he slipped his right hand under the hem of her leather jacket, his thumb caressing the jut of her hipbone, shifting the waistband of her jeans until they were skin to skin. She took the next turn slightly slower, stretching more than strictly necessary to give him better access. Clint splayed his left hand wide over her belly, his pinky brushing the button of her pants, his thumb on the underside of her left breast. 

Her nipples were rock hard and rubbed against her bra while the seam of her jeans shifted back and forth, stimulating her more than was wise given their current mode of transportation. 

Concentration shattered, Natasha tried focusing all of her attention on the road and on finishing the last three miles without killing them. As she accelerated on a straightaway, Clint molded his body to hers; his chest now covered her from her shoulders to the small of her back, his thighs cradled hers, and she could feel the flex and shift of his muscles as they took the final series of turns to his cabin. 

The unmistakable ridge of his erection pressed firmly against her ass. Her inner muscles tightened convulsively with the memory of what it felt like to have his cock buried deep inside her body. 

Gravel sprayed as she fishtailed slightly while making the turn into his driveway. She didn’t even have the bike to a full standstill when Clint leaped off the back. Faster than she ever had before, Natasha slammed the bike onto its kickstand and yanked the key to the off position. 

Clint’s arms closed around her and he was dragging her from the bike before she had time to take the key out of the ignition. He’d already removed his helmet as he started tugging her towards his cabin. Quickly, she tossed hers aside, only dimly registering the clang as it hit the front steps of the cabin. 

She would need to get a new one, but who the fuck cared?

With Clint hauling her against him, his mouth crashing down on hers, she sure didn’t. He tasted of comfortable familiarity and new discoveries. His hands were on her ass, kneading, testing, holding her in place so he could thrust against her.

It was only their years of training that let them navigate the three steps up the porch and to his front door without stumbling or breaking their kiss. Taking control, Natasha pulled back far enough to reach the zipper of his jacket and yanked it down in one fast motion. He was shrugging out of it even as she grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, finally breaking their kiss.

“Keys,” he muttered against her lips as he unzipped her jacket and pushed it to the wood beneath their feet. “Keys!” This time he started searching his pockets. She nipped his neck where his pulse throbbed; his skin was salty and so incredibly familiar and he moaned softly when she nipped him a second time. Then she did it again, causing him to moan and shudder. “Where are my fucking keys?”

His nearest neighbors were a good mile away, and the cabin itself was hidden from the road by the forest. Not wanting to wait for him to find his fucking keys, Natasha cupped his erection and stroked him through his jeans.

“We’ll find them after,” she told him as she nibbled under his jaw while she explored the length and thickness of his erection. 

“After,” he agreed, thrusting in time with her strokes. “After is going to be now if you don’t stop.”

“Where’s your famous control? Hours of sitting and watching.” It was her turn to moan as he swooped down and took her left nipple in his mouth, sucking it through the cotton of her t-shirt and bra.

In a move that was sure to leave bruises, he dropped swiftly to his knees, his hands going to her boots. Efficiently, he had the zippers down and tugged first the right then the left one off her feet. While he was doing that, she was tackled the button and zipper of her pants, her normally precise movements hampered by desire so strong as to have shudders of need rippling through her body. 

Despite the distractions, they always managed to work seamlessly together, knowing what the other was going to do without words, and this was no different. 

Together, they pushed her pants down, taking her underwear with them. As soon as she was bare to him, Clint buried his face in her pussy, tongue licking, nose nuzzling, panting breaths teasing. Stepping out of her pants without sprawling on her ass required some concentration, but once she was free Natasha spread her legs wide, giving him better access. The door was cool and hard against her ass and his mouth was so hot and soft on her that her brain couldn’t quite reconcile the two. 

She was slick with desire – had been since just after he climbed on the bike behind her – so he was easily able to slide one, then two fingers in her. Flames of need and want shot through her in waves as he pumped his fingers in and out in counter-time to sucking on her clit. 

“Clint, please,” she moaned as he gently scraped his teeth over the top of her incredibly sensitive clit. His hair was too short for her to bury her fingers in, so she raked her nails over his skull and the back of his neck in a way she knew drove him wild. 

A growl rumbled out of him and he added a third finger, which pushed her right to the brink of climax. When he sucked hard on her clit as he crooked his fingers inside her, Natasha shot over the edge and tumbled into wave upon wave of pleasure. Clint kept his hand in place moving shallowly back and forth as she stood up, muffling her cries of pleasure with his mouth, his tongue mimicking his fingers.

She could taste herself on his lips overlaying his more familiar taste, and relished their combined flavor. In jerky movements, she got his pants undone and shoved them down and out of the way. Conditioning for their jobs meant that they were both in peak physical shape; years of working so closely together meant they knew each other’s bodies and abilities nearly as well as their own.

When Clint’s hands cupped her ass again he just needed to lift her enough so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. She could feel his erection, hard and hot, nestled between her folds, sliding easily along her desire-slickened flesh.

The blunt head of his cock rubbed over her clit, still pebble-hard, causing frissons of re-awakened passion to ripple along her nerve endings. She tightened her thighs around him, flexing just enough so that he continued to brush over the highly-sensitized nub.

Hooking her left arm around his neck, Natasha anchored herself in place, her tongue still dueling with his. With thrust and parry of tongues, shift and slide of bodies, they teased and frustrated each other. If they weren’t so worked up the game could have gone on for ages, neither one wanting to concede, to completely surrender to the other. As it was, it was Clint who broke the kiss, lifting her higher, swiveling his hips, trying to align his cock to her opening.

Natasha slid her hand down his bare chest, reveling in his strength as his muscles flexed when he shifted her into position. 

The muscles of his abdomen rippled under her fingers and he sucked in a sharp breath when her hand wrapped around his cock. She stroked him as best she could, tighter at the base then loosening her grip slightly, rubbing the underside of his cock just before the head. Triumph and pleasure raced through her at the way his back arched and his whole body shuddered under her touch.

“Do that again and I’m not going to be responsible for what happens,” Clint warned her with panting breaths. 

“Really?” Natasha asked archly, stroking him again. This time she didn’t loosen her hold until she once again teased that spot just before the head of his cock.

With a growl, the fingers of Clint’s left hand dug into her ass and he held her in place one-handed. In a jerky grab at odds with his normal smoothly-controlled movements, his fingers circled around her wrist and yanked her hand away from his cock. 

Lifting her just a bit higher, he positioned her body with his left arm, while his right hand fisted his cock and directed it until the head was just inside her. Locking her legs tightly around him, Natasha held herself in place until he looked up. She squeezed her inner muscles rhythmically around the head of his cock without letting him in any further.

“Natasha,” Clint gritted out. “Don’t tease.” He let go of his cock and wrapped his right hand around her hip, trying to draw her down onto him. His eyes were filled with lust and near-desperation and he was shaking ever so slightly. Desire, need, and not a little of her own desperation filled Natasha.

Gazes locked, she relaxed the muscles in her thighs so that she slammed down the length of his erection until he was completely buried in her. Again, she locked her legs, holding herself in place as she relished the way his cock seemed to touch every part of her, to stretch muscles not used to such an invasion, while at the same time tantalizing her to want so much more. The way he filled her bordered on pain, but it felt so incredibly good. 

Unconsciously, Natasha flexed her inner muscles around his cock, taking him in a fraction of an inch deeper. They both moaned, and Natasha wished they could stay like this forever. Eventually, his hand left her hip to drop to her ass; this time when he urged her to move it was up. 

Working in tandem – his hands on her ass, her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips – they moved together: up and down, in and out, thrust and withdrawal. Slipping and sliding against each other in the bright afternoon light. Pleasure danced over her skin, along her veins, tightening her muscles. 

This close, Natasha could watch as more and more of his controlled façade slid from his face until he was all animal need and all-too-human wants. She cupped his face with her right hand, then ran her fingers through his hair enjoying the soft brush of the short strands. Sweat beaded his forehead and made his hair spiky where her hand had been. 

The urge to kiss him rose stronger than that to keep watching his eyes, so she leaned in and took his mouth. Her flavor was fainter, but the kiss no less aggressive. Their tongues swirled and tasted; their mouths broke apart time and again as one or the other gasped for breath at a particularly deep thrust or an arm slipped against sweat-slickened skin causing them both to grab frantically for the other. 

More quickly than she would have liked, desire built and Natasha could feel her orgasm building with each stroke, each nip, each time her breasts dragged along his chest. She wished desperately that she’d thought to remove her shirt earlier, but at the time his tongue had been on her clit and his fingers bringing her to climax. 

Unhooking her right arm, Natasha squeezed her hand between their abdomens and pushed it lower until she found the hard nub of her clit with her fingers. She managed to stroke it once, twice, a half-dozen times and it was enough to send her crashing over the ledge of her second climax. Her head slammed back against the door, but Natasha barely noticed as wave after wave of white-hot pleasure coursed through her. 

Her body shook as she called out Clint’s name again and again until there was nothing left but to collapse and trust that he would keep her upright. Limp, she barely had the presence of mind to keep her legs locked around his hips as Clint gripped her ass and thrust jerkily into her. She was sure that she would have bruises on her ass to match the size and shape of his hands when this was done. 

Panting, she let her legs drop down in a barely-controlled slide. His cock slipped out and she felt empty without him filling her. The smooth wood of the porch was reassuringly solid under bare feet as the rest of her body felt like it was barely real. Clint nuzzled her neck, dropping kisses in a haphazard fashion until he reached her ear. 

“Just like Munich,” he murmured, causing her to laugh. 

“Not at all like Munich.” Marshalling her muscles, she rolled her head back, thankful for the support of the door. “We made it inside in Munich.”

“Yeah, but we pretty much ripped each other’s clothes off and I took you against the front door.”

“That’s not quite how I remember it,” she said, leaning in to nip his bottom lip. 

“Maybe you should remind me how it was,” Clint said, laughter in his eyes.

“Maybe you should demonstrate how you think it was, and then we’ll compare notes.” Natasha grinned at him. “Let’s bring the stuff inside.”

Without bothering with her pants or boots, she went back to the bike and grabbed the tank bag. She felt a twinge deep inside when she bent down and relished the physical reminder of what they’d done together.

It was not the first time they’d had sex; it wasn’t even the first time they’d holed up for a week or so recovering from a hard mission and reassuring themselves and each other that they’d made it through more or less whole. It was, however, the first time it was a planned break, one with the promise of something more than a week-long fling.

Clint gave her a wicked smile as he hauled the saddle bags over his shoulder. “You look good like that.”

Natasha looked down and just shook her head; her t-shirt was sticking to her with a combination of their sweat, and she was sure her hair was a rat’s nest between the helmet and his fingers. Plus, she could feel the slick stickiness between her legs that was the physical evidence of what they’d done together. Luckily, she’d opted not to put too much make up on this morning so apart from the flush on her cheeks – one that graced Clint’s cheeks as well – she wasn’t too worried about raccoon eyes or smeared lipstick.

“I look like I’ve just had a hard fuck.”

“Like I said, you look good like that,” Clint shot back, once again running his eyes over her.

“Good thing you think so because I intend to look like this again pretty soon.”

“Oh, you better believe it.” They walked back to the door of the cabin and Clint nearly landed on his ass when he let go of his pants to fish out the front door keys from the right hip pocket of the jacket he’d snagged on his way up the stairs.

“Smooth,” Natasha ribbed him with a smile.

“The only reason you’re not tripping over your pants is because they’re in a tangled mess by the door.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Hawkeye,” she said as he opened the door. Then she let out a laughing gasp as he smacked her lightly on the ass.

“Wanna try that again when I’m not half-naked with low coordination?”

“Not on your life,” Clint said as he leaned down and dropped a friendly kiss on her lips before sauntering into the bedroom.

This weekend was a long time coming and she was looking forward to every moment.


End file.
